Obsfucation of the Problematique
by Hella Bar Talk
Summary: Starbase Six. Nothing seemed amiss until just a few months ago. So, the USS Mariana was sent out to investigate. When no word is heard from the Mariana, the USS Enterprise is sent after her. Meanwhile, Kirk and Spock both have feelings that end up surfacing after months of being squashed down. (Post Into Darkness, slow build Spirk.)


The organized chaos that was the bridge of the Enterprise was in barely upheld order, as usual. Commander Spock at his science station and Lieutenant Uhura at the communications board shared occasional glances in between tasks. To an innocent bystander, the long stares would be nothing of note. Yet an innocent bystander definitely would not know the rockiness their relationship had gotten caught up in.

Sulu and Chekov exchanged jokes and stories from the helm. The two had become almost inseparable since the beginning of the five-year mission, to the point where landing parties including one would always include the other. Sulu had already started picking up some Russian, and Chekov now knew more about botany than anyone on the bridge that wasn't Hikaru Sulu himself.

Scotty would appear from engineering every so often, usually alerting them to the third, just averted warp core related crisis of the day. Otherwise, he barely left the lower decks, only every so often for a secret drink in his quarters. Bones arrived now and then too, checking up to see if the captain was still sane. Usually, his findings came up negative for the sanity he so desperately searched out.

And, at the center of it all, sat the captain himself. James T. Kirk, in all his reckless, unbound, dazzling glory, manning the comm, the binding force behind the entire ship and all its endeavors. Lest we forget the broad, ridiculous, downright manic smile spread across his face from ear to ear, both impossibly electric blue eyes twinkling right along with it.

Ignoring Bones' nagging, he spun around in his captain's chair with a short laugh, deftly twirling an apple in his left hand. Flicking a few switches and pressing a few buttons on the arm of his chair, he made to make an announcement down to engineering.

"Hey, Scotty! How're those cores looking?" Kirk asked, leaning down to the microphone so he could be heard better over the hustle and bustle around him. There was a low crackle that indicated that his call had been received.

"Lookin' much better, cap'n. Have no idea what happened to 'em this time, but I think we can manage a steady Warp Three now." The engineer's response came through the small speakers in the chair. With a brisk nod he knew the other officer couldn't see, Kirk leaned off the mic button and looked up to face the view screen.

"Alright, Mister Sulu, set course for Starbase Six." The captain called to his helmsman, looking away from the screen to notice an approaching ensign making for his chair, holding something in the crook of her elbow.

"Course set, sir." Sulu responded, one hand hovering over the warp keys, the other positioned and ready to grip the lever. When orders for warp speed didn't come, the helmsman had to turn around to face his captain.

His eyes met with Jim out right flirting with the officer at his shoulder, again. Restraining the urge to roll his eyes, and instead cracking a small grin, Sulu repeated his statement.

The captain looked up abruptly from the ensign, heavy lidded eyes snapping open at full attention. Feeling she should leave, the subject of the captain's flirting left Jim with the PADD she was carrying, almost sprinting off the bridge and into the turbolift.

"Uh, W-Warp Three, Sulu." Kirk stammered, regaining his composition. From a few feet behind him and a little to the left, Spock's right eyebrow had taken its usual place raised slightly higher than its mirrored counterpart.

"Warp Three, Captain." Sulu repeated back, the grin sliding into a sly smile as his fingers danced over buttons. His arm pushed forward on the lever, and the _Enterprise_ shot off into space, leaving a brilliant blue trail behind it.

As they made for their destination, which they would reach in less than twenty-four hours, Mister Spock stood up from his station and approached the captain's chair. Standing with both hands clasped at the small of his back, he spoke directly to the captain from behind.

"Captain, if I may pose a query." Spock requested, his tone even and calm as usual, barely any inflection and absolutely no emotion evident. Jim, having heard his first officer, gestures for him to walk around to the side of his chair.

"Shoot." Kirk talked around the apple chunks that had taken homage in his mouth. The commander held back his distaste, only pursing his lips slightly, as far as a visible reaction went.

"I have been speculating as to why we are venturing to Starbase Six, so if you may provide me an answer, I would be…satisfied." Spock made sure to articulate his thoughts as carefully as possible, every word having been thought over with the utmost care.

"Good question. Let me see why." Kirk responded, looking down from his first officer's face and down to the PADD that rested on his left leg, crossed over his right.

"Wait, you mean we've gone off on Starfleet orders without even knowing _what they mean?_ Dammit, Jim, one of these days you're going to get us all killed, and my last, dying words will be 'I told you so,' you stupid kid." Bones grumbled as he stepped out of the turbolift, crossing, uncrossing, and throwing up his arms into the air in exasperation.

"Yeah, sure, but I'll make sure to die first so I don't hear you say it." Kirk retorted with a cocky smirk, daring the doctor to verbally abuse him on the bridge for the seventh time this week.

"I am in confidence that we can postpone the details of your death for the parameters of our mission, Captain. Am I wrong in this assumption?" Spock interjected, that damned slanted eyebrow rising again.

"No, you're not, as usual." Jim responded, punching his first officer playfully in the arm. Spock remained mostly unaffected at the sudden hit, having just barely adjusted to his captain's need for physical contact, only continuing to uphold his raised eyebrow.

Readjusting the PADD's position on his leg, Kirk skimmed the details of the mission as fast as he could. In his hurry, he most likely missed the more important parts, but managed to salvage the overall gist of what was going on at Starbase Six that needed attention from a Federation starship.

"Well?" Bones spoke up after a minute or two of silence from the captain. Jim's gaze slowly came up from his reading, but his head didn't follow through to meet the chief surgeon's eye completely.

"Hey, gimme another minute. I still gotta read this, Bonesy." Kirk frowned with mock disappointment. McCoy groaned at the use of the nickname, muttering something that was riddled with profanity most likely to get him kicked out of Starfleet if overheard by someone who wouldn't hesitate to file a report on the matter.

Finally the captain looked up, apparently done with his bare bones reading over of the mission's points. Placing the PADD on the arm of the chair, Kirk stood up to be level with the two people listening to his explanation.

"Alright, basically two days ago, a ship was sent on an annual routine check-up of all of Starbase Six's operations to make sure everything was going as planned. Shortly after its arrival at the Starbase, the USS _Mariana_'s contact with Starfleet was cut off.

"It wasn't back on until some time yesterday, when what seemed to be a distress signal was sent out on all frequencies. The call was cut short before we got any info on what was down there. Nobody's heard or seen anything from anyone over there since then, so we've been sent out to investigate." Jim explained, crossing his arms over his chest.

Silence hangs over the three for a minute flat. That is, until Doctor McCoy tore it to pieces with his best scalpel.

"That's it?" He asked, incredulous. Kirk nodded with furrowed eyebrows. "Y'mean to tell me, we're being sent out into the fray with no idea what we're up against? Not to be cynical, I think I'm going to be tellin' you 'I told you so' pretty soon, kid."

"It does seem like quite the risk we're taking on accepting this distress call, whether we knew what we were going up against or not. Anything strong enough to disable an entire Starbase of two hundred people, added onto the four hundred of the average starship, would make for a formidable enemy, if not one out of our league, so to speak." Spock reasoned. "Not to mention the slightly suspicious order for the flagship of the fleet to look into such a matter, instead of another, lower ship better built for the job."

Silence reared its head yet again as the three thought over the possible outcomes. They could ignore the signal, going against orders, and make it out alive and with a possible court martial. They could make up an excuse for the _Enterprise_ to be exempted from consideration for this mission, passing it onto the next available ship, but never know what was going down at Starbase Six.

Or, as a final option, they could answer the distress call and throw themselves into almost certain mortal peril. Kirk was on board for the last, as was Spock – only because he'd never defy a direct order. Bones, however, was still adamant about staying out of the affair for the health of the other two and the rest of the crew.

The chief medical officer argued Spock's point that any other ship could do the job, and that Jim needed to slow down with all of the life threatening missions for once. Kirk quickly retorted with how the whole point of their mission was to explore and help, so getting injured was inevitable. Spock agreed with the captain again, trying to seem reluctant. Neither Bones or Kirk bought it, but they both didn't make any comments.

So, the final decision was made. The starship _Enterprise_ was en route to Federation Starbase Six, and there was nothing that Doctor Leonard McCoy could do about it now.

* * *

The _Enterprise_ arrived at Starbase Six in a timely twelve hours at a steady Warp Three. There were no issues in navigation throughout the entire flight, though the closer they approached to the base, the worse communications got. By the time they docked in the base's docking station, communications were completely down.

Uhura and plenty of engineers had already checked out all of the circuits, but nothing seemed to be wrong with the ship itself. There was some sort of field within five hundred thousand kilometers of the base that blocked all frequencies, excluding old style radio waves. Those waves seemed fairly unaffected by the hypothesized field, but wouldn't be the best tool for getting a message to Starfleet in a pinch.

"Well, we're here. Now to make a search party. Any suggestions, Commander?" Kirk asked, turning in his chair to face his first officer. A hopeful smile was curving his full lips, but the first officer seemed mostly unaffected. Mostly.

"If you were to take my advice, I would recommend myself, the good doctor, two security men, Lieutenant Uhura, two others of your own choosing, and yourself included, of course." Spock answered, hands folded behind his back, posture as immaculate as ever. However, the left corner of his mouth was twitching up ever so slightly, only visible if you were looking for such an action on his face.

Apparently Jim was, because he was outright beaming as he stood up from his chair, having noticed his first officer's almost-smile. Spock was unable to tell if the captain's smile was mocking or not, but he decided to pointedly ignore any reactions pertaining to what he just let slip.

"On Mister Spock's recommendation, the landing party will consist of yours truly, Commander Spock, Chief Medical Officer McCoy, Ensign Briggs, Ensign Makoto, Lieutenant Uhura, Chief Engineer Scott, and Lieutenant Sulu." Jim announced over the comm, overdoing the professionalism on purpose. Bones, Sulu, and Nyota, already on the bridge, all rolled their eyes in almost perfect sync.

Jim called for the rest of the landing party to meet him in the transporter room, and the five on the bridge all piled into the turbolift, just barely fitting in all together. Personal space be damned, more than just elbows were brushed in the sixty seconds of tight quarters.

After getting to know each other even more than they ever thought they would in five years, the turbolift was emptied as the landing party met up in the transporter room down the hall.

The captain, commander, doctor, and three lieutenants all strode into the room. The amount of confidence definitely varied between their steps, going from the positively bouncing step belonging to Kirk, all the way to the shoulder-drooping shuffle that Bones was preforming.

Ensigns Makoto and Briggs, who were standing in the doorway, both exchanged brief glances when their superiors entered. The former adjusted her dress and the latter nervously twirled an idle hand around a single strand of hair. Neither had gone on an away team before, so the sudden call down to the transporter room had come as a big surprise. They themselves had only had the pleasure of quiet conversation between each other a handful of times, so if anything, they'd probably become closer by the end of it.

Though upon observation of all the other red shirts that went as part of landing parties, they doubted they'd even come back alive, much less form a lasting relationship.

Oh well, one could hope.

"Alright everyone, pile in!" Jim had a five hundred watt smile on, even after that beyond violating experience in the elevator just moments before. Everyone else who experienced that same event wasn't nearly as cheerful as their captain, tromping up to the transporter with heavy steps and uncomfortable eye contact.

The ensign manning the transporter looked extremely flustered as his fingers danced across the controls, coming so close to hitting the wrong switch more often than not. Luckily, he had so much dumb luck that the landing party wouldn't have their atoms spread all across the galaxy _this_ time.

Jim let out a breath he hadn't been aware that he was holding to begin with as he rematerialized on Starbase Six. His bright, electric blue eyes snapped open and scanned his surroundings. The rest of the landing party had, apparently, the same idea, as heads were swiveling every which way to take in every single detail of the room they were standing in.

Their current location was completely empty, save themselves. It seemed to be some sort of control room, maybe an engine room. Scotty would know, Jim thought, and decided to voice his concerns.

"Hey, Scotty. This an engine room?" He asked, turning to face his chief engineer with wide eyes.

The Scotsman gave a brisk nod, though not completely looking his captain in the face. His gaze seemed to drift towards the inner workings of the Starbase, seemingly entranced with all of the technology.

"Aye, cap'n. Cannae tell the las' time someone was in here though, there're cobwebs ev'rywhere!" He replied, though still examining the consoles around him with some scrutiny.

Considering the information, Jim looked away and over to a nearby turbolift. Glancing between the rest of the party, the phaser hooked to his belt, and the turbolift, he made his decision.

"Alright. I say we jump right in. But, this is an entire Starbase, so I suggest we split up. Scotty, you go with Uhura. Bones, you're with Sulu. Makoto and Briggs, you're another team. That leaves me with Spock. Any questions, comments, objections?" Kirk stated, pausing with arms outstretched as if to say 'bring all of your criticisms in this direction.'

His eyebrow already perched atop his forehead, Spock seemed to have an interjection of his own.

"Captain, I do not think it is wise to split up, as it has always shown to be an unfortunate decision on our part. Though I do agree, searching an entire Starbase as just one group would be illogical and overly time-consuming, going in pairs is far too dangerous. Groups of three or four would be a much more…logical direction." The Vulcan reasoned. Bones did absolutely nothing to stop the groan escaping from his lips.

"Hey, c'mon Spock! Live a little! We'll be fine, I promise. All this is, and ever will be, is a routine check-up. Nothing to worry about." Jim clapped his first officer on the back, but got no response in return. He assumed that was a resignation on the Vulcan's part, and went on with explaining his plan without hesitation.

"Uhura and Scotty, you take the bottom ten decks, since those are where all of the engineering sectors are. Bones and Sulu, you take decks eleven through twenty. Sickbay should be somewhere in there, too. Makoto and Briggs, you girls can go through decks twenty-one to thirty. Me 'n Spock'll take thirty to bridge. You have your orders." Kirk paused for a moment, a sly smile replacing the serious look from before. "Try not to die."

* * *

The first team of Uhura and Scotty, who hadn't gotten in the nearby turbolift since their first stop was the deck farthest to the bottom, had begun to look over the inner workings of Starbase Six with much precision. So far they'd come up with nothing but a lot of cobwebs ¾ how _those_ got there were a mystery all on its own ¾ and more dust than Scotty would ever let the Enterprise come in contact with. Everyone was getting showers the second they got back on their ship, he'd said, so nothing gets contaminated.

Uhura was looking through the communications panel that was always present in the engineering sector of every starship or starbase. As far as she could see, there weren't any signs of tampering with the wiring or panels, so the interference had to be coming from somewhere else. Where that somewhere was, she had no clue. Yet.

So when, seemingly out of nowhere, Scotty uncovers a 'shocking development,' Nyota is more than happy to look up from the endless jumble of wires she's faced with at the communications panel.

"I think I've go' somethin'!" The engineer exclaimed, his face lit up like a small boy opening up just the present he wanted on Christmas morning. Intrigued, Nyota stood up from her low crouch, loosening out the kink in her knees, only to crouch back down again right next to the smaller man.

"Yeah? What is it?" She asked, looking up into the panel's underside with wide eyes and her jaw a little slack to one side. She had to contort her neck in ways she hoped she'd never have to experience again.

Scotty, unaware of how it may come off on the other end, scooted closer to Uhura to help her see what he'd found. "Ri' there, see? Tha' silver panel, _way_ 'p in there." He said in a low voice, like he might wake a sleeping beast inside the open underside of the main panel.

Squinting as she tried to see past the distracting, rainbow colored wires, Uhura searched for what Scotty's feeble, single sentence had described. There were plenty of silver panels down in there, so it was hard to mix up one for whatever he was trying to point out.

Eventually, though, she happened upon something strange that was definitely worth pointing out. The direction that Scotty was pointing in, however vague, corresponded as well, so it was safe to assume that this was what had gotten him all stirred up.

"Is that…_goo_?" Nyota exclaimed, incredulous. Beside her, with an equally surprised expression, Scotty nodded slowly.

"Aye. Goo."

* * *

The next team, consisting of Bones and Sulu, had already searched two entire decks. So far, they'd come up with no life signs on either, and no signs of any struggle, besides a single phaser burn on the Deck Twelve corridor wall.

Even that could mean anything, and it didn't seem to be especially fresh. For all they knew, it could have been there for years, months, weeks, or days; the tricorder wasn't telling them anything of import about a single phaser burn. It was almost as if something was interfering with the tricorder's ability to scan, since under normal circumstances that would have been a piece of cake to identify.

Now they were slowly approaching sickbay, which out of any deck, had the highest tendency to harbor some sort of clue to aid their mystery solving. With a short sigh, Bones stopped right in front of the bay's doors, but not close enough for them to open up for him.

Sulu appeared from around the bend just seconds later, concern written all over his features. Coming up from behind the doctor, he tapped on the blue fabric covered shoulder lightly with his index finger. The doctor jumped at the sudden touch, but relaxed when he realized it was only Hikaru.

"Dammit, man, don't sneak up on me like that! I swear, you must be part cat or something, just like that fucking hobgoblin." Bones grouched, his face playfully sour. Sulu assumed it was playful, anyway.

"Alright, I'll make sure to stomp my way up next time so even the captain and commander upstairs can hear me." He laughed, unhooking the phaser from his belt, in case someone was on the other side. You can never be too cautious.

Bones didn't reply, only rolling his eyes silently. He braced himself for the worst, clutching the tricorder in his hands as tightly as possible to the point where his knuckles had blanched a stark white.

Throwing caution to the wind, the pair stepped into the sickbay with confidence, too preoccupied to expect the unexpected or otherwise. What they were met with was not expected, of course, and definitely showed them both to be slightly underprepared.

On the biobed in the very back of the bay, lay a broken man, seemingly unconscious. Bones raced to his side, snapping into doctor mode, while Hikaru stood guard right by the door.

"Shit, this man's almost dead! He's extremely malnourished, half his brain's mush, most of his ribs are broken, and he isn't even on life support!" The doctor shouted, brows furrowing in frustration. "The hell kind of starbase they runnin' around here?"

Sulu couldn't provide the doctor with the answer he was looking for, so he shook his head and did nothing more. He was good with plants, piloting starships, and sticking people with swords, but dealing with the insides of sentient life was an entirely different world.

As Bones was frantically trying to see if there was any hope for this still unidentified man, the helmsman couldn't help but feel a certain apprehension slowly take him over. It wasn't the hopeless endeavor the doctor was undertaking a few yards away, but some sort of sinking feeling, how you feel when you think someone's watching you.

The hairs stood on end on the back of Hikaru's neck, and he found the grip on his phaser ever tightening. Glancing away from the doctor at the other end of the room, he did a quick sweep of the hallway. Nothing, just as he suspected.

Or was that really what he was expecting?

Sulu had always been one to expect the unexpected. It came with the uniform when you sign up for Starfleet. Still, there was something that was throwing him off his element, lurking around the corners of his eyes. He couldn't decide if he was frustrated or terrified, and that was even more unnerving.

The feeling of not knowing for certain was one of the worst a human can feel, and it is inevitable. When you get thrown into this life, at any speed, no matter how you're born; you can always expect to meet the unexpected.

But if you're expecting it, then how is it unexpected? Suspecting things takes the sort of twisted fun, the adrenaline, the _terror_ out of the unknown. Learning to live expecting the unexpected can't prepare you for what is undetectable to someone who can't see the future.

Hikaru can't see the future.

* * *

Mai Makoto had always tried to keep a handle on herself. A good Starfleet officer doesn't let their emotions get the best of them in trying situations, whether they're human, Vulcan, Andorian, or otherwise. Emotional compromise is not acceptable for any species.

Mai wouldn't say that she herself is compromised at the given moment, though she'd be lying if she said she was completely under control. Her hands had a hard time holding onto her phaser, her cold sweat making the black grips slippery and hard to grasp.

Aside from her phaser problems, her heart was beating much faster than what she assumed was normal. Her mind was working too fast for her body to keep up, creating grim fictions where she, Briggs, or the other people in the landing party ended up dying some sort of gruesome death.

A quick jerk of Mai's head revealed Briggs ¾ "Call me Josslynn," she'd insisted ¾ at her side, looking equally as nervous. However, instead of being driven by pure anxiety like Mai, Josslynn had a sort of reckless courage about her, not unlike the captain himself. This energy simply radiated from her and helped keep Mai moving, her heavy breaths coming and going.

Even though they hadn't talked more than a few times this entire mission, Mai already felt they had grown exceptionally closer. She assumed that would be why Captain Kirk and Commander Spock seem so in tune, since they'd gone on countless away missions together.

Inhaling deeply, Makoto told herself to get a grip. She was losing herself again; starting to drift into the back corners of her mind where all there seemed to be was panic. She couldn't help but wonder if every officer's first way mission was like this, or she just wasn't qualified yet.

Josslynn seemed to notice her distress, and slowed her own jog to a brisk walk so she could place a reassuring hand on her partner's shoulder. With a small, knowing smile, she whispered,

"Hey, we'll be fine, don't worry. If anything goes wrong, I got your back." Her eyes were clear with sincerity, truly believing what she was saying.

Mai was a little skeptical of her words. "Yeah, okay. But what if I get killed anyway? What if _you_ get killed? What happens then?" She hissed, her pulse quickening again. Thinking about that was probably the worst thing she could do at the moment, but she just couldn't help herself.

Josslynn sighed, but the smile remained. "Hey, c'mon. Don't think that way. If it does come to that, the captain or commander or one of the others can save whichever one of us doesn't die. I know for sure I'd be going down in a fight, so you'd probably have Doctor McCoy all over you checking for wounds." She giggled quietly, even though the situation hardly called for it.

Mai couldn't help the grin that had edged its way onto her face. Something about Briggs' attitude was contagious, and she'd caught the bug. The worried delusions were ebbing away, like a bad dream, and her breathing had slowed down to a more normal rate.

Since they had stopped walking entirely, just focusing on each other for one quiet minute, Makoto and Briggs had failed to notice the faint footsteps approaching them from around a nearby corner. It was only until it was too late to run that they finally heard the soft footfalls.

* * *

Jim Kirk seems like an open book. Being a very emotional person, his feelings appeared to be written all over his face with a universal translator clipped onto them, just in case there was any confusion.

This, however, was not entirely the case.

He was more like the one kid in the class who shoved a comic book inside of his math textbook during a lesson to make it seem like he was paying attention to the teacher, but instead reading up on the latest issue of his favorite superhero. You could never be entirely certain that he really _was_ reading a comic book, to be specific. But, if you knew him well enough, you'd have a suspicion that he definitely wasn't paying attention to the numbers in his textbook.

Right now he was deep in the latest issue of Iron Man during a lecture on imaginary numbers. His nose was shoved so close to the page, trying to feign concentration on the equations before him. However, a small, bright corner of his comic book was poking out for the world to see. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed it.

The corner that he was exposing was one he'd been so sure to keep hidden for so long that he'd forgotten about it almost entirely. Jim's thoughts on the mission had allowed his focus to drift from what it'd been centered on for so long, lulling him into a false sense of security.

What was the thought he'd tried so hard to bury under the stress of being a starship captain for so long? In retrospect, it hadn't been that long. Only months, within days of the Nero incident. It had been growing then, so small he hadn't noticed it himself until Khan and his reign of terror had come about.

Jim was suddenly snapped out of his comic book.

"Captain, you seem to be distracted. Is there something wrong?" Spock's voice came ringing through his eardrums, and a light blush ¾ similar to one a small child with his hand stuck in the cookie jar would have ¾ erupted on his cheeks.

"Ah, no, Mister Spock. I'm fine. Just…thinking about something." Jim hedged, folding his arms in front of his chest. "F-Found anything of interest yet?"

Spock couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his captain's strange behavior, but he left it be for now. He'd be sure to remember this incident, however, just in case a similar scene played out later.

"Incidentally, I have. I found a pile of tissue around the corner, just down this corridor, which seems to be some sort of skin graft. Human skin, if I am not mistaken." The Vulcan explained letting his hands grasp each other at the small of his back.

Jim shook off his previous flustered attitude and snapped into captain mode with breakneck speed. His eyebrows furrowed as Spock's explanation went on, looking like they may dip into his eyes yet as his first officer finished his report.

"Skin graft, huh? Well, that's certainly…something. Any ideas on what we might be dealing with, 'cause I'm in the dark without a wall to cling to right now." Kirk replied, shifting ever so slightly from foot to foot.

Spock paused for a moment, like a computer loading up its data banks. After what felt like an eternity to the knowledge-hungry captain, the first officer finally spoke.

"I do not believe I do, meaning I will need to bring this back to the ship for testing." He admitted, sounding as sheepish as a Vulcan could. Jim jumped at this opportunity.

"Really? Mister Spock, who knows practically everything, doesn't know what this simple human skin graft means? Wow, what a day today is." Jim smirked, acting almost as if this was payback for his earlier blush.

Spock halted, mouth open and poised to retaliate surely with some long winded speech about how '_knowing everything is surely impossible, which immediately rules out the possibility for it being 'practical,' _but he stopped short. This wasn't worth his breath, since the captain would probably just laugh in his face anyway.

It turns out Jim was going to do this either way, whether Spock actually said anything or not. With a bark of a laugh, he turned away, shaking his head ever so slightly. The Vulcan decided not to say anything to this, either, assuming it wouldn't get him anywhere with Kirk in a state like this.

"Ah, I'm just kidding, Spock. C'mon, let's finish checking out the rest of these decks and the bridge so we can go back to the Enterprise to check that sample out." Jim's smirk was replaced with a softer smile. He clapped his first officer on the back and started off down the hallway with no prompting.

Spock sighed and reluctantly followed his commanding officer.

The search of the remaining decks had come up uneventful. Spock had found more of the mysterious skin graft and Kirk had nearly broken a finger in a door with delayed closure, but no giant lizard men had come lumbering around the corner with homicide on the brain. Always the one for adventure, Kirk didn't have a hard time admitting he was disappointed. In fact, he'd voice it loud and clear to anyone who would or wouldn't listen regardless.

Spock ended up being this person more than once. The Vulcan was much past becoming weary of his captain's near constant whining. In fact, he may become the homicidal lizard man himself, just to get Jim to shut his trap. Being the man of logic he is, however, Spock didn't let onto this. All he allowed himself was a simple quirk of an eyebrow.

The game changed when they finally reached the turbolift destined for the bridge. Stepping inside, Jim ordered in a voice, "Bridge," barely able to contain his excitement. The thrill he'd been waiting for this entire mission was within his reach. Or so he assumed.

His assumption turned out to be wrong, squashed under the boot of the cool female voice that drifted through the turbolift's speakers.

"Bridge unavailable." Her clipped voice stated, and a short beep indicated that she was waiting for an alternative destination to be announced. Jim's eyebrows furrowed, his heart sinking in his chest. Nothing would take his adventure from him, not today.

"Computer, bridge." He repeated, clearing his throat beforehand, just in case it was his voice that'd been the problem. The same response still came through.

"It seems that our 'adventure' has come to an untimely end." Spock remarked, reveling in the small satisfaction that he got from the reaction his small eyebrow quirk granted from his commanding officer. Groaning, Jim threw his hands up in the air.

"Yeah, well. Obviously something really good's up there, but there's no other way up. Might as well get the rest of the landing party together so we can go back to the _Enterprise_ to test your stupid skin graft." He grumbled. Spock's eyebrow remained in its raised position, but he didn't say anything further.

As the two exited the turbolift, Kirk whipped out his communicator. Releasing a deep breath, he hailed Scotty and Uhura. It's always good to start from the bottom.

"Mister Scott, Lieutenant Uhura. Report up to Deck Two, on the double." He said. A thick, Scottish accent announced an affirmative, though it was even more obscured with a gross static blanketing every word. Jim winced at the shrill whine that still continued after the connection had been dropped and hailed Bones and Sulu.

Repeating this again for Makoto and Briggs, Jim's orders had made it successfully to the entire landing party. All of the other six made it to Kirk and Spock's location in a timely fashion, too, but they didn't wait around to share stories. They'd have plenty of time for that once they got back to the _Enterprise_.

"Kirk to _Enterprise_," Jim hailed, his mouth impossibly close to the communicator. Sulu made a quiet crack about the captain's deep connection to his ship and everything related to it, but it was quickly nipped in the bud by a backward glance from the captain.

In the midst of this, there came no response. Nothing besides static, static, and more static, anyway. With an annoyed sigh, Kirk tried again, and then three times, but finally succeeded on the fourth try.

He got just enough of the message through, ordering an immediate beam up. By now his apprehension meter was off the scale and he wanted off this Starbase before anything else happened to him, or more importantly his crew.

Before they could take another breath, the entire landing party was back on their ship, mostly unscathed. Bones was demanding a look at the captain's finger. Jim, who wanted no part of sickbay for at least a day more, outright refused. He ended up sprinting out of the transporter room, an angry McCoy following close by, a hypo poised and ready to sink into the captain's neck.

Expelling a short sigh, Spock relieved the rest of the landing party to go back about their regular duties for the time being. He still had to examine this graft, whether the captain was busy with "other business" or not.

As he watched them leave, Spock couldn't help but notice a certain strangeness about Ensigns Makoto and Briggs. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but still. Something was off.

It seemed important enough to mention to Jim later, when he'd gotten out of Doctor McCoy's clutches.

With a brief nod at the ensign manning the transporter controls, Spock left the room and started down the corridor. He'd decided upon Lab Five for his examination of the samples he'd picked up. It was supposed to be clear for the next few hours, which is probably all Spock needed.

At least there wouldn't be any obnoxious lower ranking officers requesting he take a look at their latest research. Being the Science Officer for the _Enterprise_ definitely had its perks, though constant babbling about their half-wrong theories definitely wasn't one.

Spock let his thoughts drift as his feet carried him entirely on memory to his destination. Even after a few short months, every deck of the _Enterprise _was already engraved into the Vulcan's mind. All it took was the simple order of destination, and he'd find his legs moving there on their own accord.

Something told him this would be a memorable five years coming, especially with Jim Kirk as the captain of their vessel. Oh, Jim Kirk. What a specimen of humankind. Brash, bold, and absolutely reckless; yet intelligent, caring, and deep all at the same time. Spock didn't quite know what he felt about the man, not yet.

Feelings were never quite his strong suit. Then again, all he'd ever done with them is either smash them down into the darkest corners of his mind, or then let them run rampant in times of great duress. That definitely wasn't much to base off of.

Yet, something in the pit of his stomach told him this time it'd be different. A sort of fluttering feeling, on an entire different level from the burning rage he'd felt when his planet was destroyed and with Jim's death in the radiation chamber.

As long as he could keep it under control and entirely undetectable, he'd be fine.

Without realizing, Spock found himself already in Lab Five, standing right next to the equipment. He'd stored the samples away in his small shoulder bag, and he unhooked it from his shoulder. Snapping the top open, he pulled out the ten samples he had.

Spock gave all of them a quick look-over before he started testing to see if they'd been contaminated at all (in a visible sense, anyway) or the seals had been breached.

There were the three skin grafts he'd found, the goo that Scotty and Nyota had discovered, a swab from the phaser burn on the wall that Bones and Sulu found, and the rest were from various parts of the man in sickbay's body. It unsettled him slightly that Makoto and Briggs hadn't found anything, or at least hadn't revealed anything that they'd seen. It definitely contradicted the shaken looks on their faces.

Reminding himself to bring it up with the two ensigns later, Spock seated himself at a nearby desk. He pulled out the samples and set them by the various analyzing equipment readily available to the science division's higher ups. With a small, almost invisible sigh, he set out to work.

* * *

Jim's quarters were quiet. He wasn't due back on the bridge for the Alpha shift for a few more hours, so he needed something to kill the time. Yet the hard part wasn't the act of killing the time, but the figuring out what you're supposed to use as a murder weapon.

He'd already exhausted most of his list. Bones was busy with something in sickbay, Sulu and Chekov were off doing their own thing, and Scotty had to show some ensigns how to properly clean out the Jefferies tubes. Jim got the impression that Uhura'd rather die than spend "quality alone time" together, and any other friends he had were all tied up one way or another.

Reading seemed to be out, considering Jim wasn't in the mood for anything he already had lying around, which wasn't much. He didn't feel like going around and asking random crewmembers for book recommendations, either, so that option was null.

Normally he would finish up any extra paperwork he had lying around (God knows he always had that to fall back on), but all of it required some sort of First Officer's concur. Finally, after about an hour of nothing but mindless thumb twiddling, Jim asked the computer for the commander's location.

After receiving his response, Jim put a line through to Lab Five.

"Hey, Spock, got a minute?" The captain asked, clearing his throat of the lump that got stuck near his Adam's apple. There were a couple moments of silence on the other end, save for the telltale whirr of machinery. Spock must be doing those tests he'd mentioned on the samples they collected.

"…Yes, I do 'have a minute,' to use a vernacular." Finally the first officer replied, though his speech seemed more halting than usual. Brushing it off as nothing so far, Jim continued on with the original intent of this call.

"Oh, that's…that's great! I need to see you in my quarters, paperwork that needs your signature on the dotted line too." Kirk's words seemed to trip out of his mouth, and he could nearly see his first officer's left eyebrow cocked.

"But I was thinking that maybe after we're done with all the official business, we could have a game of chess? I mean, you seem pretty busy with all your tests and shit, but I was pretty bored and I was just thinki-" Jim never got to finish his sentence.

"Captain." Spock interrupted, his voice firm. It seemed to loosen, ever so slightly, when he said his next sentence. "I would find that satisfactory. You have not need to try to convince me further." The last part was added in an undertone, but Jim caught it.

Beaming, Jim confirmed their plans ¾ Spock would arrive in about an hour at his quarters ¾ and hung up the comm, a fluttery feeling rising in his chest. It was inexplicable, how the flutter came about. Now that it was here, however, it wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

Jim wasted an entire minute sitting in his chair, doing nothing but let a wistful look overtake his face as his mind drifted into corners that hadn't existed a few minutes prior. When he noticed the small drop of drool that collected in the corner of his mouth, the captain stood up abruptly, wiping it off his face with a single finger.

A quick glance around the room revealed how much of a pigsty Jim Kirk really lived in. There were standard issue uniform pieces strewn every which way, making it impossible to move without stepping on a sock or a shirt or a pair of boxers. The paperwork that was all at least a week overdue was thrown haphazardly into every nook and cranny it could fit in; out of sight, out of mind.

PADDs were everywhere. All of them had different programs working on them, with everything from conversations with other officers to little games to even more electronic paperwork. It was still a surprise to Jim that he even had any physical paperwork anymore, but the Federation had a scare with the entire records grid going down a few decades back, it was always good to have backups.

Yet lest we forget all of the other little trinkets Jim had lying around. Everything from hidden liquor bottles to small souvenirs from planets they visited; you name it, he had it. A small plant Hikaru had given Jim rested on his bedside table. He still didn't know what kind of plant it was, much less its planet of origin, but its light purple hue definitely lit the room up nicely.

Biting his lower lip, Jim couldn't help but panic. Spock was going to be here in less than an hour now, and his room still looked like an entire fleet of Romulan warbirds decided to bomb it with everything they had. He still didn't know why Spock, of all people, seeing his room in such a state freaked him out, but now wasn't the time to psychoanalyze himself. He had some serious room cleaning to do.

* * *

At precisely an hour after Jim's request, Spock arrived in front of the captain's quarters, arms folded neatly behind his back. A passing Lieutenant that happened to be walking down this way looked in his direction once, but after realizing the gaze was returned, quickly looked away and shuffled down the corridor with newfound haste.

It wasn't like it was the first time Spock had visited the captain's quarters. He'd gone down this way to sign paperwork a couple times before, though both of those times had been earlier in the day when everyone else had somewhere to be. Now, when it seemed the ship was taking a breather, things were much more casual.

Spock's full attention snapped to Jim once he heard the faint _swish_ of the door opening. He couldn't help but notice the small beads of sweat that congealed on Jim's face and how his hair was even more mussed than usual, how his breathing was heavier than usual.

Something stirred in the Vulcan's chest. It moved down to his bowels, then down a little lower. He stomped it out into the dust before it could go any lower.

"Oh, Spock, sorry about…this." Jim took a step back, the panting slowing down gradually. He rubbed his forehead with a damp towel that hung around his neck. He'd taken off his gold 'fleet overshirt. "I was just cleaning."

"There's no need to apologize. I do not mind." Spock assured, dipping his head and keeping sure that his voice was steady. The strange feelings were at it again, starting to gain traction, playing a game of tug of war with the logic centers in his brain.

"So, uh, which d'you want to do first? We can sign the papers now, just to get 'em out of the way, or we can play chess first. Personally, I'd like to play chess first, but I know you're all about 'work first then play,' so whichever would be fine." Jim suggested, throwing the towel in the general direction of his bathroom, but it hit the door and fell to the ground. Spock wasn't all that perturbed by this, to be honest, since their bathroom was conjoined.

If it had landed in its predetermined destination, then he might be considered partially responsible for whatever mess it may have created.

"I am willing to do whatever you see fit. You are the captain, after all. I wouldn't mind a little…play, as you put it, myself. Back to back sample tests can get quite straining, even for a Vulcan." Spock responded, inclining his head ever so slightly again.

Jim's lips drew into a smile, one of the warmest smiles Spock had ever seen. He didn't think about it too much at the moment, yet he saved the precious image away for later.

Without another word, Jim made a beeline for the chessboard he already had set up, pieces in their starting positions on all three levels. He pulled up two seats from seemingly out of nowhere, placing them right next to the small, white side table that the board rested on.

Spock took a seat across from his captain, just barely able to make out the still flushed face through the three tiers of board before him. Let the games begin.


End file.
